


Crumbling Chains

by SpyroTF



Series: Better Choices (Vader Lives AU) [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Darth Vader Lives, Darth Vader Redemption, Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Gen, Luke Skywalker Befriends Everyone, Mustafar (Star Wars), Post-RotJ, Skywalker Family Feels, The Author Bullshits Force Things, it wouldn't have worked otherwise I'm really sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23067589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyroTF/pseuds/SpyroTF
Summary: Post-ROTJ, Vader lives AU. Many years ago, Anakin Skywalker said that he would free all the slaves. He has to start somewhere.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Series: Better Choices (Vader Lives AU) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652098
Comments: 17
Kudos: 238





	Crumbling Chains

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you'll enjoy the second story in this AU! I struggled a bit when writing this one (oh, the woes of a non-native English speaker), so feel free to share your thoughts and point out typos or mistakes if you notice any.
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta, Phoenix Prime!

Trying his best to suppress a yawn, Luke once again took his eyes off the datapad in his hand and glanced at the closed doors of the conference room. It’d been about half an hour since Anakin—together with Supreme Chancellor Mon Mothma and a couple of other New Republic leaders—had gone inside to discuss “a matter of great importance”, as his father had put it in his ever succinct way. Before that, he’d requested the young man’s presence nearby, telling him to wait outside without specifying the exact reason. Luke hadn’t seen much sense in arguing against it, so now he found himself sitting comfortably in a chair with his legs crossed, listening to the murmurs of people passing by. And even if he was starting to get a little bored, he didn’t mind it all that much.

He was about to turn his attention back to the small screen when the doors finally slid open, and out stepped the towering figure of Anakin.

“Come,” he said, turning his black mask to look directly at Luke. “We are leaving for Mustafar.”

Mustafar. The name was unfamiliar to Luke, and yet he felt something deep and profound roll off of it. A flicker of some sort. A hidden meaning. There were several questions springing to his mind at the same time, but rather than asking about the destination or the purpose of the trip, he instead focused on another obvious implication which he’d somehow almost missed.

“Um… ’we’?” Luke asked.

For a moment Anakin appeared to be caught off-guard by his son’s reaction, his regulated, mechanical breaths filling the silence until he spoke up again.

“My assumption was that you would wish to accompany me,” he said, placing his hands over his belt. “However, if that’s not the case, then you may stay here. Your presence there is not strictly required, although it would be… highly preferable.”

On the outside, Anakin sounded as clinical as ever, yet Luke smiled as he sensed an awkward, apologetic undertone to his father’s words through the Force. The former Dark Lord would still regularly fall into the habit of ordering people around—in fact, he hadn’t really been trying to get out of it all that much. But recently, the young man had started seeing noticeable shifts in Anakin’s attitude, which Luke almost dared to describe as him trying to be considerate (even if only as an afterthought). The attempts had been few and far in between, but still appreciated by Luke nonetheless.

“No, it’s alright. I’ll come with you,” he agreed without a second thought. “I don’t believe I’m needed here right now, anyway,” Luke added as he got up from his chair.

“Good.”

“Why are we going there, though?” he asked as they started walking down the hall together.

“All will be revealed in due time.”

Which was his father’s way of saying _I don’t want to talk about it_ , as Luke had already learned. The young man let out a sigh.

In general, getting information out of Anakin was… difficult. His willingness to converse on certain topics had proved to be just as volatile as his temper. Sometimes, he would produce what only could be qualified as a small speech when practically unprompted, and other times it would be like trying to squeeze water from a stone, one word at a time. More often than not, however, Luke found himself in the latter situation—which meant there had still been many blind spots in his knowledge about… well, about a whole lot of things concerning his—their—past. And even though he still felt frustrated about that, he understood why Anakin had been struggling to open up even to his own son, and so he tried his best not to pressure him too hard when he could help it.

That’s why the prospect of going to Mustafar—which probably held some sort of meaning to Anakin—was secretly enticing to him, an opportunity to get one more piece of the puzzle. That, and also because it would be the first time he would get to go somewhere off-planet with his father. Probably as close to a family trip as it would ever be, he thought somewhat wryly.

“We shall depart in twenty minutes,” Anakin announced. “All the necessary arrangements are being made as we speak.”

“Okay,” Luke acknowledged with a nod. “So it’s going to be just the two of us, right?”

“No. There will also be several soldiers present aboard the ship,” Anakin replied. “Precautions,” he added a few moments later after sensing his son’s concern.

That didn’t do much to ease it, though, for the statement could be taken many ways. Luke’s first thought was to assume it had to do with the potential dangers of the place they were going to visit, requiring what essentially was a small squad in addition to two trained Force users. However, there was also another possibility, probably less concerning yet more unpleasant for him personally.

As much goodwill as Anakin had earned thus far, he was still by all accounts a war criminal, and he was _dangerous_. His behavior and actions were still being closely monitored, and naturally, the leaders of the New Republic wouldn’t feel entirely comfortable letting a former Sith just wander off into space, even if he was accompanied by Luke. Of course, no soldiers could ever pose a threat to Anakin if he chose to see them as his enemies, but they would still be able to relay the message back in case of emergency. And even imagining such a scenario filled Luke with a sense of unease. So, even though the young man wasn’t fond of such measures, he did understand why they were taken.

Either way, Luke decided it was not the best time to delve too deep into his thoughts. Once again nodding to his father, he tried his best to set his mind on the task ahead—whatever it would turn out to be.

* * *

Luke liked to think of himself as having been to quite a few planets, considering his first ever visit to space had taken place a little more than four years ago. He had already seen the lush forests of Yavin IV and Endor, the freezing wastelands of Hoth, the bare rocks of Vrogas Vas and, naturally, the coarse sands of Tatooine. There were about a dozen more planets on that list, but essentially it all boiled down to different variations of the same few types, with a couple of outliers like Nar Shaddaa and Bespin. It was a little naïve, Luke realized, but in some sense he believed that he had already seen it all.

And so, up until the moment they emerged from the hyperspace, he had never imagined that a planet like Mustafar could even _exist_.

For a second Luke thought back to Tatooine and its endless deserts. He knew that no matter how desolate and barren they appeared to be, there was life to be found in them; they were still a part of nature. But there was nothing alive or natural about the giant coal-black sphere, charred and scorched as if it had just been burnt in a giant, cosmic fire. The planet still looked partially engulfed in flames, its dark surface illuminated by what Luke assumed were vast systems of active volcanoes and pools of lava. He wondered if Mustafar had always been like this, or if it had indeed suffered from a global disaster of some sort, turning a living planet into a dead one. He hoped for the former to be true, because the latter would imply that any world could one day end up a miserable husk of itself—an idea that didn’t sit well with Luke.

Forcing himself to pull his eyes away from the unsettling sight, he glanced at Anakin in the pilot’s seat next to him. Luke should have been excited about an opportunity to finally witness his father’s legendary piloting skills firsthand (without being locked in a space battle with him, that is), and he _was_ excited… until now.

As they began entering the atmosphere, his chest got even heavier with unease. It wasn’t just the planet’s disturbing landscape, Luke suddenly realized. Something was off about how Mustafar felt in the Force. There was a faint, invisible darkness to it; the same kind of darkness he had sensed in the cave of visions back on Dagobah.

“Father,” Luke decided to probe again, “what is there, on Mustafar?”

And this time, Anakin answered him.

“Mistakes.”

Luke didn’t urge his father to continue, sensing that it would only serve to break the fragile moment. Eventually, his patience was rewarded, and Anakin elaborated further.

“It is there that I made the final decisions which led me down the path of the Dark Side.”

Despite its apparent simplicity, the statement couldn’t have been more loaded, and Luke spent a few moments trying to wrap his head around what he just heard.

This was what Mustafar meant for his father. The last line he had crossed, believing there had been no hope of return after that point. The place where everything had ended and started. Where his Destiny, and the Destiny of countless other beings, had been chosen for him, by him.

Where Anakin Skywalker had seemingly died, and Darth Vader had been truly born.

Carefully, Luke prodded at his father’s emotional state, not quite sure what he was seeking. Anakin always made sure to control what emotions he wanted to project openly for everyone else to feel, and at first glance his mental shields appeared to be even stronger than usual. Yet it was clear to Luke that there was an ocean of swirling feelings underneath, so intense and eruptive that small wisps of them had managed to make it past the shields. He couldn’t discern their nature by simple observation, so he reached out for one of the wisps, brushing against it with his mind, and—

—anger hatred fear sorrow regret guilt _so much guilt—_

The emotions rushed through him, an endless stream of despair, swallowing him whole, dragging him down to the bottom of the abyss, and he was drowning, drowning, _drowning_ …

Until suddenly he could breathe again.

Luke gasped at the sensation of being forcefully pushed out of the contact back into the reality. He took another deep breath and slowly exhaled, tension leaving his body as he sank deeper into his chair.

“Do not attempt that again.”

With Anakin’s voice completely devoid of Force inflection, Luke didn’t know what the phrase was supposed to be. A threat, a warning, a demand. A plea.

Either way, it was not to be dismissed, and he nodded, unable to think of anything to say. He wished he could somehow lessen the emotional turmoil this planet caused his father, yet at the same time he realized it was something a lot bigger than he could comprehend right now. With a heavy heart, he accepted that there wasn’t much he could do to make Anakin feel any better. Not now, and definitely not here.

After that, Luke proceeded to look on Mustafar’s landscape, and soon enough his attention was grabbed by an unusual detail on the planet’s scarred surface. Initially, he thought it to be some sort of mountain, pitch-black against the greys and reds surrounding it. However, as they started getting closer to it, Luke could see that it was actually an artificial structure reminiscent of a castle. Situated on the edge of a cliff, it had a broad square base which transitioned into a forked spire at the top, overlooking a river of lava down below. Just like the planet itself, the castle wasn’t only visually intimidating—it also gave off a dark feeling in the Force, and a strong one at that.

The tension that Luke had felt between himself and Anakin had already subsided, and he decided to try and satisfy his curiosity.

“What is this?” the young man asked.

“My fortress.”

For a moment Luke simply stared at him. “Your _what?_ ”

“My fortress,” Anakin repeated, the Force flaring up with annoyance at his son’s disbelief, as if it was the most mundane thing to admit to. “It was constructed over a Dark Side locus to serve as my personal abode where I would reside between tasks.”

The young man’s gaze shifted once again to the imposing dark structure, a somber frown crossing his features. So, this was the closest thing his father had for a home. For who knows how many years, Anakin—Vader—had returned to this hellish landscape over and over again, each time reliving some of his most painful memories and the unfathomable anguish they still caused him to this day.

Luke thought back to the maelstrom of agonizing emotions he had briefly felt from his father and shuddered. It must have been torture. It _was_ torture.

But why had this planet been chosen as his place of residence? Surely Mustafar wasn’t the only world with a Dark Side focal point, if that had been the primary reason behind the decision. There must have been other options, other planets to choose from—ones that didn’t cause his father such pain. It didn’t make sense... unless Anakin had been _forced_ to do it.

Luke’s hands clenched into fists as a wave of anger came crashing over him, fueling his outrage. Of course! How hadn’t he thought of that before? This seemed _exactly_ like the kind of devious thing the Emperor would’ve come up with to exert even more control over his ‘apprentice’. Only he could’ve been so sadistic to—

“It wasn’t his doing,” he suddenly heard his father say.

In an instant, Luke’s anger cooled off. He realized somewhat sheepishly that he must’ve been projecting those thoughts ‘loud’ enough for Anakin to pick up on them, a habit he wasn’t quite able to break yet. Then his mind got focused again as started to muse over the meaning of the words. His father had apparently felt a strong enough need to correct Luke, considering it almost sounded like he was defending Palpatine. But Luke knew it wasn’t intended to be taken that way. Anakin had only wanted to state the truth, which meant it really _hadn’t_ been the Emperor’s idea after all.

But then who…

A chill ran down his spine as it suddenly hit him.

“No,” Luke said, shaking his head with disbelief. “Father, don’t tell me— _you_ chose this?”

Anakin slowly turned his mask and simply stared at Luke in response, yet his silence was in itself an answer. As he turned his attention back to the ship’s controls, he eventually spoke up again, probably sensing Luke’s unvoiced question of _why_.

“The Dark Side draws its power from negative emotions, preying upon the suffering of its wielder. The stronger those emotions are, the greater that power becomes. A Sith who passes up an opportunity to take advantage of this knowledge is considered to be either a weakling or a fool.”

Luke already knew that. It was something his father had explained before, during one of their training sessions. Yet, in the context of their current conversation, the explanation took on an entirely different meaning. And then, the young man slowly realized that something… wasn’t quite adding up.

“What about the Emperor?” Luke asked. Anakin turned to look at his son again, except this time he violently jerked his helmeted head to one side, making Luke’s heart jump.

It took him a couple of seconds to regain his composure as he decided that he would not back down. He needed to know. To _understand_.

“If what you say is true, then shouldn’t every Sith strive to suffer as much as possible? I wasn’t very familiar with the Emperor, but… from what I saw and felt about him, he didn’t look like he was suffering at all. I would say he was almost… _happy_ , in a way.” Luke winced inwardly as a soft menacing chuckle rang in his ears. “And if he truly desired power above all, then it makes little sense.”

Anakin turned away to stare off into the horizon, and Luke noticed his grip on the controls tighten. “You are not entirely incorrect.”

Luke felt his throat go dry. “Then why did you do it?” he asked in a low voice.

For a moment the world became devoid of sound except for Anakin’s breathing.

“Mistakes,” he said, “must be punished.”

And with that, the conversation was over.

He felt Anakin withdraw into himself, completely shutting off from his son in the Force and otherwise. It was a state already familiar to Luke, and he knew there would be no bringing his father out of it unless he himself wished for it. The remainder of their flight was spent in dead silence, Luke hiding his hands inside his jacket’s sleeves as the temperature in the cockpit plummeted despite the inferno outside.

Luke had expected them to get as close to the fortress as possible, yet Anakin chose to land their Lambda shuttle at some distance from the building itself. He was still silent as he got up from his chair, but made no objections when Luke decided to follow him out of the cockpit and into the main compartment. Motioning for the soldiers to stay inside the ship, he proceeded to stride down the boarding ramp as soon as it lowered, his son following suit.

The moment Luke set his foot outside the shuttle, he was enveloped by smothering heat. Mustafar’s air felt dry and heavy on his skin, and for a split second he was transported back to the scorching deserts of his home planet. But on Tatooine, one could always find salvation in the shade or at night, hidden from the cruel watchful gaze of the twin suns. Here, seeking salvation would be a futile effort, for the heat emanated not from the sky, but from the planet itself. It was endless, omnipresent and all-pervading, just like the scattered ashes that seemed to fill his lungs with every breath he took.

Luke quickly confirmed that Mustafar looked just as dead on the ground as it did from the air, and it couldn’t offer many sights except glowing rivers of lava and crooked mountains in the distance. As they made their way towards the castle he eventually fixed his eyes on his father, walking a few meters ahead of him. He knew that the life-support suit had some form of climate control built into it, allowing Anakin to survive in extreme conditions… yet he doubted that it was able to fully negate Mustafar’s heat. But, based on the recent revelations, Anakin had probably seen that as a good thing, believing he hadn’t deserved even that miniscule ounce of comfort. Luke frowned and set his eyes on the structure ahead, trying to distance himself from the dark thoughts.

Up close, the castle appeared to be even more intimidating than from afar, its forked spire reaching for the gray skies. Luke had expected the entrance to look equally as grand and was surprised when it turned out to be a relatively small door in the shape of a hexagon. Anakin entered a few numbers on the keypad mounted next to the door, which then slid open, allowing him to enter the building with Luke following closely behind.

As soon as he found himself inside the obsidian walls, an ice-cold feeling shot through his entire being, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks. Luke dragged a heavy breath, trying his best to get used to the overwhelming Dark that seemed to dominate the place, when suddenly he felt some sort of pressure on his back. It took him a moment to recognize it as Anakin’s hand, who’d moved a few steps back to stand closer to his son. The touch was comforting, and Luke appreciated his father waiting patiently as he composed himself.

Just as they were ready to move forward again, Luke noticed a dark silhouette at the end of the hall. After hovering in one place for a few moments, it then proceeded to move slowly in their direction. For a second Luke got tense, but noticing that Anakin showed no signs of alarm he allowed himself to relax.

As the figure finally approached them, Luke saw that it was wrapped in a black hooded cloak from head to toe, leaving only the face for him to study. The stranger appeared to be a short human male with an elongated face and pale, wrinkled skin, his old age clearly evident. His dark deep-set eyes, however, displayed none of that decrepit frailty; half-hidden under the bushy silver eyebrows, they were observing the world with a calm shrewdness Luke didn’t often see in other people. He had long learned that appearances could be deceiving, yet there was something he found rather likable about the man and his placid disposition.

“Welcome back, Lord Vader,” the old man said with a low bow, making him look even smaller than he actually was. His voice was raspy but soft. “We never lost hope that you would one day return to us.”

“Vaneé,” said Anakin after a brief pause. So that was the man’s name, Luke silently acknowledged.

“Are you well, my lord? Is there anything you would like me to do for you and your… companion?” Vaneé inquired obligingly as he shifted his gaze from Anakin to Luke, making the latter feel somewhat self-conscious.

“I’m, ah, Luke Skywalker,” he said as he tried to straighten his posture. Seeing as Anakin made no attempts to introduce him, Luke added, “I’m his son.” Smiling, he held out his hand to the old man. “Glad to meet you, Vaneé.”

Vaneé eyed Luke’s hand with a blank stare, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed in the presented scenario. Gingerly, he reached out with his dry, wrinkled palm and responded with a careful handshake, the gesture clearly alien to him.

“Well then, it will be a great honor to pledge myself to your service as well, young Master Luke,” the old man stated, bowing his head respectfully.

“Oh, just ‘Luke’ is fine,” he hurried to say, trying to shake off the sudden feeling of discomfort.

“As you wish… Luke,” Vaneé conceded, albeit with visible reluctance.

“How many still remain here?” Anakin demanded, apparently deciding that they’d wasted enough time on pleasantries.

“Everyone who is loyal to you, my lord. As I said, we eagerly awaited your return—”

“The guards?” he interjected.

“They left not long after your disappearance, my lord,” Vaneé replied in a strange tone, which Luke thought sounded like reprehension. “More specifically, when the news about the Emperor’s demise became known.” He hesitated for a second. “My lord, is it true that—”

“Gather all the rest in the main hall,” Anakin ordered, cutting him off again. “I will be joining you shortly. Until that moment, everyone is to wait for me there.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Vaneé replied with yet another bow.

Anakin headed for one of the passages on the left side of the hall, and Luke was about to follow him when the older man suddenly stopped. “That includes you as well,” he said without turning back.

Luke didn’t get to say anything in response as the next second his father was already gone, having disappeared behind the doors of the passage.

The young man sighed and walked back to Vaneé, who had already started further down the hall. Anakin’s attitude was starting to rub off on him, and he hoped that they would soon be able to leave the planet that held such a strong influence over his father. Not to mention that Luke still had no clue about his own role in all of this, which only added to the frustration.

As Luke and Vaneé walked together, the old man reached into the folds of his robe and took out a small device, seemingly a communicator of some sort. Pressing a few buttons, he put the device back where it came from and then set his eyes straight forward.

Luke didn’t know if Vaneé was fond of having company or even talking at all, but simply walking in silence wasn’t much of an appealing prospect to him. It felt impolite, if not plain awkward. Besides, now was his chance to learn more about his father and the people who had been part of his life until recently, and Luke didn’t want to let the opportunity slide.

“So, you are my father’s… attendant?” he asked, making no effort to hide his genuine curiosity.

“I suppose that would be an apt description, yes,” replied Vaneé. “For over twenty years now, I have been Lord Vader’s most loyal servant. He is a stern master, yet he is also just.”

Raising his eyebrows, Luke couldn’t help but feel impressed. So, that would mean Vaneé had started… working for Anakin soon after Luke’s birth. He must have been really good at his job if he survived under his father for so long—

Hastily, Luke shut down the unwarranted line of thought. “I see,” he said, eager to move the conversation forward. “And this is where you’ve been living all this time?”

“Indeed,” the old man affirmed. “The environment outside is harsh and unforgiving, but there is little reason to venture out. Everything one requires can be found here.”

Vaneé sounded sincere, yet there was a pang of an old, deep buried sadness in the Force as he said those words.

“Must be a big contrast to… well, where you used to live before,” Luke guessed. Although it wasn’t that much of a guess, he thought belatedly, since Mustafar would be a big contrast to pretty much anything.

The pause between them stretched, and Luke was already past expecting Vaneé to say anything when the latter suddenly spoke.

“That would be Naboo.” Noticing the young man’s puzzlement, he elaborated, “That is where I was born and lived for the most part of my life before coming to serve Lord Vader.”

Luke’s heart fluttered. Naboo was the homeworld of his mother, Padmé, and upon learning the fact, he had gone on Holonet to look up as many pictures of it as he had been able to find. Luke remembered the amazement he had felt at the sight of open valleys, huge waterfalls and majestic cities, promising himself that he would one day go there to see it all with his own eyes.

“I heard it’s beautiful there,” he said.

“Yes,” Vaneé agreed, and Luke could sense the wistful fondness in his tone. “Very much so.”

After that their conversation stalled, and Luke proceeded to quietly follow Vaneé as he led him through all the different twists and turns of fortress, which appeared to be an underground complex. At first, his attention was dedicated to observing his surroundings, but he quickly found it to be a repetition of the same sharp edges and dark surfaces, and his focus gradually shifted to Vaneé again. It didn’t escape Luke how Vaneé would sometimes glance towards him, his gaze lingering for a few seconds as if studying the young man. It wasn’t anything to get upset about, but he couldn’t say he enjoyed the feeling of being scrutinized.

“Is... everything alright?” Luke finally asked, hoping he didn’t come off sounding as rude.

Startled, Vaneé looked away. “Forgive me, young—Luke. I simply never imagined Lord Vader to be… the parental type.”

Luke couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. “Believe me, you aren’t the only one,” he assured him with a smile.

“I do wonder why he never mentioned anything about you before,” Vaneé added warily, as if uncertain whether he was allowed to pry that deep.

“We only recently learned of our relation,” Luke explained. “It’s… complicated.”

“Ah. That would explain it, I suppose,” the old man mused. “But, truthfully, these must be complicated times for all.”

“What do you mean?”

Vaneé’s shoulders twitched, the motion somewhat reminiscent of a shrug. “The fall of the Empire, naturally. I cannot say I anticipated myself becoming a citizen of the Republic once more.”

There was a strange calmness in his demeanor, which struck Luke as curious. “You don’t seem too surprised about that,” he remarked.

“Goings of the outside world do not affect me much. Here, everything remains unchanged,” Vaneé said as he motioned around with his hand.

“I see,” Luke said, this time quietly and to himself.

The young man was debating whether he should ask another question when Vaneé suddenly stopped in front of a door, which seemed to be a bit larger than all the others they’d encountered so far. He entered a few digits on the keypad and then hurried to move aside, inviting Luke to come in first.

It was a spacious hall with a high ceiling and light grey walls, which Luke thought to be a welcome change after seeing nothing but black. The chamber couldn’t offer much in terms of furnishing except for a widescreen on one of the walls and a wide, rounded table in the middle, its surfaces dark and polished, surrounded by several chairs made of the same material. Luke let his gaze wander for some time before he noticed that they actually weren’t alone in the hall.

There were five other people standing in front of the table, both female and male, all seemingly human and dressed in dark clothes resembling a uniform. Luke then proceeded to study their faces more closely and noticed in surprise that none of them looked to be as old as Vaneé. In fact, he found all of them to be fairly young— thirty, at most. They couldn’t have been working for his father for very long, and Luke tried not to think about the possible implications of that fact.

But their age wasn’t the only peculiar thing about them. Unlike Vaneé, who seemed to be relaxed if not pleased, those men and women emanated nothing but fear. It was dull, overlaid with resignation and apathy, yet at the same time persistent and deep-rooted.

That fear spiked when he heard heavy footsteps outside the hall, announcing Anakin’s approach.

A moment later, he entered the chamber. Immediately, all eyes fell upon him, a tall black shadow that had finally returned to its rightful domain. The unblinking gaze of his mask slowly swept over everyone present in the hall, and for a split second even Luke felt uneasy, some small part of him forgetting that he was looking at a _former_ Sith Lord. The feeling passed, but the oppressive atmosphere that Anakin carried with him remained lingering in the air.

Luke then watched as his father clasped his hands behind his back and proceeded to pace the hall in slow, deliberate strides.

“From this moment forth, you are relieved of your duties, and as such, you cannot remain here any longer,” he began, his loud voice intensified further by the chamber’s echo. “There is a shuttle prepared for you outside that will transport you to Coruscant. Alternatively, you may use any of the ships in the hangar to depart for another destination of your choice.”

Anakin stopped and paused, as though to let what he just said sink in. The people in front of the table stared at him before looking at each other as the fear written on their faces gave way to surprise.

“Should anyone choose to leave on their own, they will not be pursued.”

And again men and women traded looks, but this time there was less surprise in them. Instead, Luke felt a wave of mistrust and incredulity, which then slowly changed into guarded, cautious hope.

Anakin turned to the side, once again facing everyone. “You must make your decision now.”

Starting to get an idea of what was going on, Luke suddenly noticed that one person’s reaction to the announcement was drastically different from that of other people. While their fear seemed to have lessened, Vaneé, who’d been completely calm a minute ago, was now practically _overwhelmed_ with anxiety and disbelief. Eventually, he became the first to break the silence, his voice trembling as he spoke.

“B-but… my lord, we—“

Anakin held up a gloved hand, silencing him.

“I am no lord. Especially not yours.”

It took Vaneé some time to process what he just heard. When he did, his expression changed from fearful to absolutely mortified. “M-my—I b-beg you to reconsider! If we have somehow wronged you—”

“This matter isn’t open for discussion,” Anakin snapped, cutting him off. “You may either leave with me, or do so independently. There is no third option.”

For a second, it looked as if Vaneé was about to say something, but then decided against it, wringing his hands with a pained look on his face. The emotional turmoil he was going through was almost too great for his small fragile form, and Luke was already starting to feel worried when the old man drew a defeated sigh, his arms dropping at his sides.

“What… will happen to those who decide to leave with you?” he asked weakly, his denial slowly giving way to acceptance.

Anakin folded his arms across his chest. “The Republic will provide you with personal living quarters located in the upper levels of Coruscant. You will also be granted an opportunity to choose a new occupation for yourself, as well as complete freedom of movement and socialization.”

The mechanized breaths echoed across the room, counting the passing of seconds as Vaneé was trying to make what must’ve been the hardest decision he’d ever had to face in the last twenty years.

Finally, he took a step forward.

“I… I wish to travel with you to Coruscant,” said Vaneé, his tone bleak and quiet.

Anakin studied him for a moment before turning to face the other people, none of them showing any inclination to either speak or move.

“I trust that everyone has made their choices,” he said. “You have ten minutes. For your own sakes, I suggest you be quick.”

In one swift gesture he raised his hand, pointing at them.

“Those who fail to leave the territory within the established time frame _will regret it._ ”

Luke felt his stomach drop. Anakin snarled the words with the malice he did not think his father capable of anymore, and he couldn’t understand what had caused it. His mind was immediately swarmed by unsettling implications.

“Father…” he began, trying to get the older man’s attention as he and Vaneé walked past Luke and towards the exit. But Anakin paid no mind to his son’s appeal, leaving the latter no choice other than to follow him out of the hall. Before that, Luke cast one last glance at the men and women still remaining inside, his chest heavy with uncertainty.

Their trip back to the outside world was marked by complete silence. After moving some distance away from the fortress, Anakin motioned for Vaneé to head for the shuttle. When the old man complied, he turned to face the structure and proceeded look on it as if he waiting for something. Luke was about to try and talk with his father again, when he suddenly noticed a small silhouette break away from the castle’s imposing form. Recognizing it as a ship, he felt relief wash over him, along with a hint of embarrassment at doubting Anakin’s intentions. Just to be completely sure, he scanned the fortress for life-form signatures through the Force, finding none.

As soon as the ship vanished among the gray clouds, Anakin shifted focus to his son.

“Luke.”

It was the first time his father addressed him by his name during the entirety of their trip, and Luke looked back at the older man, slight trepidation rising in his chest. Whatever Anakin said next, he felt, it would be important. So he waited, and after what felt like a bit of an internal struggle his father slowly ground out, “I require your assistance.”

Luke couldn’t help but shudder at the bitterness lacing these words, though he knew it wasn’t meant for him. Anakin wasn’t inherently averse to teamwork, and even appeared to enjoy what could be loosely described as comradery when it came to interacting with a select few individuals. However, for some reason he seemed to have an incredibly hard time outright admitting that he couldn’t do certain things alone, be it his pride, arrogance or something else. And so it was the first time Luke ever heard his father directly ask for help with something, _except when Luke had looked at him his back against the shuttle’s ramp as he struggled to speak Luke help me take this mask off but you’ll die—_

“Okay,” Luke said, shutting his eyes for a second in an attempt to chase the memory away. “What do you need me to do?”

“Do you recall what I told you about Force amplification?” Anakin asked.

Hesitating for a second, Luke gave him a nod. It had come up during one of their recent lessons dedicated to Force bonds and the flow of energy across them. Force amplification, Anakin had explained, was similar to Force meld, when two or more Force users would join their minds together, drawing strength from each other. However, Force amplification was different in that it was strictly a one-way connection, allowing one user to employ the Force potential of the other’s as if it was his own. Another difference lay in the fact that this technique was available only to those Force users who shared a strong bond, its effectiveness depending on the bond’s depth, as well as the power of users themselves. As such, it was rarely utilized by both Jedi and Sith alike, considered to be less practical and reliable than the standard Force meld.

Luke had a pretty good idea as to where Anakin was going with this, but still decided to make sure he understood his father correctly. “You want me to perform amplification on you?”

Anakin nodded.

A lump formed in Luke’s throat as doubt started gnawing at him.

Failing was simply another part of learning, and he knew his father would not berate him for failing. He never did. He criticized, he pointed out flaws, but he was never unjust in his assertions, and preferred to pair critique with praise whenever it was warranted.

However, this was not just another training session with his father. This time, Anakin was counting on him with some sort of a goal in mind, one that mattered to him personally. Luke wasn’t afraid of disappointing his father, but he _did_ fear letting him down.

The silence stretched as Anakin waited.

“I’ll t—”

_Do or do not. There is no try._

Luke took a deep breath, and released his fear.

“I’ll do it, Father.”

The young man stepped closer to his father’s side. Knowing that physical contact played an important role in establishing a direct link between the minds of Force users, he reached out and placed his hand on the black shoulder armor. Feeling the material become warmer due to his touch, Luke closed his eyes—and opened himself completely to the Force.

Anakin’s presence in the Force had used to feel like a cold raging fire, threatening to devour everything within reach, bleak and suffocating. Yet inside that very presence, Luke had once sensed the barest flicker of Light, persistently residing at its core after so many years of darkness. Later, he’d been there to witness the signature morph and change, until it had arrived at the point where it was currently. Still very much a fire, it now burned more like a candle with its steady light, less intense but at the same time brighter. And even though the cold would sometimes still creep up on its edges, it couldn’t do much to dampen the warmth his father’s presence radiated towards Luke.

Reaching out for it, he moved closer and closer until there was practically nothing separating him from Anakin’s signature. So far it didn’t feel any different from the usual process of viewing one’s presence through the Force, and Luke stilled, trying to figure out what he should do next. Starting to feel lost, he sensed his fear threatening to once again tighten its icy grip around him.

 _‘Do not worry, my son,’_ Anakin’s voice echoed inside his mind, still a deep artificial growl, but infinitely more welcoming and human. _‘Trust in the Force, and let me guide you.’_

Then, as if someone took him gently by his hand, Luke felt being pulled deeper into the connection, and deeper, and then—

—and then he was no more.

He was no more, for he was no longer himself; he had become a mere part of something far greater, of an absolute _feeling_ which could not be broken down into any separate emotions. Equal parts peace and passion, he reveled in it, a single moment stretched over an eternity. And then there were no such things as time or space; there was only the Force, for all the other notions of the physical realm were rendered insignificant— unnecessary—nonexistent...

And then the world shook.

Luke’s eyes flew open, his concentration wavering. After a brief struggle he managed to keep his focus, so their connection remained in place, as did his hand on Anakin’s shoulder. But now, having partially regained his sense of self, he was able to observe what was happening in reality.

Anakin stood with both arms stretched out in front of him, curled fingers trembling with tension as though they were real flesh and not lifeless metal. He growled with exertion, and then everything shook again, but this time Luke was able to see what was causing the tremors.

The fortress was falling.

Its long spire appeared to have been broken in several places, and Luke could see it slowly caving in from the sides, almost as if it was being crushed in a giant invisible grip. A second later, that grip was released as the unseen force holding the broken pieces together suddenly disappeared, allowing the fragments of the building to collapse under their own weight. With a deafening rumble they fell down to the scorched ground, raising clouds of dust and ashes as another quake shook the earth, almost strong enough to make Luke lose his balance.

In an instant, their Force link was severed with a sharp mental snap and Anakin’s body went limp. Luke watched as the towering figure of his father took a few staggering steps before dropping helplessly to one knee.

Luke let out a small gasp. “Father!” he cried, crouching down next to Anakin and grabbing him by the shoulders. “Are you alright?”

He examined the older man who appeared to be barely conscious, the process having clearly taken a huge toll on him. The lights on his chest were flashing alarmingly, his respirator struggling to match the quickened pace of his breathing. There had still been no answer to Luke’s question, and worry started to gnaw at him; but then, finally, Anakin spoke.

“It… is done,” he uttered at last, physically forcing the words out of himself.

Still somewhere between concern and awe, Luke sensed an overwhelming wave of genuine astonishment coming from Anakin as he said that. Perhaps he himself hadn’t fully expected to succeed in his endeavor, even with his son’s help. Although Luke could hardly blame him, for he still didn’t quite believe it either. As the realization of what he just saw finally settled in, it sent shivers down his spine.

 _This_ was what the Force was truly capable of, an immense power the extent of which was still too grand for Luke to truly grasp, even with his growing knowledge on the subject. He did understand that this particular feat had only been possible in the first place due to very specific circumstances—and even then, it came with a heavy price. However, that didn’t make it any less amazing… and frightening. Quite a far cry from lifting X-wings out of swamps indeed, he thought in dumbfounded shock. His gaze then wandered before locking on the place where the fortress had been standing mere moments ago, now reduced to black rubble and ruins.

“This is why you asked me to come,” he murmured with a sudden understanding, his hushed voice still loud enough for Anakin to hear.

“Not… just,” he rasped. “Wanted you… to see.”

Luke paused, trying to figure out the exact meaning behind his father’s words. To see... what? This place and his home? He supposed that could be it, but even so… why take him inside the building if everything Luke needed to see was outside? Anakin could have just told Luke to stay in the shuttle until he was done with his business in the fortress, and yet he hadn’t. He’d wanted his son to be present as he’d let go the people still residing there. The people who, with the exception of Vaneé, were so afraid of him that they hadn’t even dared to take advantage of Vader’s absence and leave the fortress, fearing he would have chased them down and punished them for their disobedience. The people to whom he had given freedom after taking it away.

And then it dawned on Luke.

He’d simply wanted his son to see him _do good_. Not out of obligation to the New Republic, not because he was encouraged by someone else, but on _his own volition._

The young man didn’t get much time to marvel at the realization, forced to push his thoughts aside when Anakin spoke up again.

“Nothing more... here. Let’s not… linger.”

He then attempted to pull himself up from the ground, but his legs buckled under him and he once again collapsed to his knees. It was clear he wouldn’t be able to stand up on his own, so Luke wrapped his arm around his father’s shoulders, Anakin mirroring the action as he understood his son’s intentions.

“You’re heavy,” Luke mumbled absent-mindedly as he struggled to rise to his feet under the older man’s weight. Anakin made no effort to comment on that, but the sharp spike of indignation in the Force was impossible to miss.

With him now leaning on Luke for support, another memory flashed before the young man’s eyes, reminding him of the painful moments when he’d dragged his father’s massive bulk through the halls of the second Death Star. However, this time there was no need to try and chase the memory away, for his reminiscences were interrupted by a sudden ripple in the Force. Luke recognized this kind of disturbance; he knew it to be a premonition of danger. Tracing the feeling’s source, he turned his head in its direction.

And then he saw it.

Rapidly approaching them was a group of armored bipedal creatures who appeared vaguely insectoid, their slender elongated arms holding what undoubtedly were weapons of some sort. They all seemed to be riding atop giant animals resembling grey bugs, whose legs moved almost too fast for Luke to actually see them. He felt his blood turn to ice when one of beasts suddenly threw its head back and unleashed a terrible, shrill cry.

“Who are they?” Luke whispered, staring at the creatures with growing alarm.

Anakin’s curt reply told him everything he needed to know.

“Natives. Run.”

Easier said than done, Luke thought somewhat hysterically as he tried to pick up his pace, Anakin helping him to the best of his current abilities. The young man employed a small amount of the Force to propel them both forward as they hurried towards the shuttle in front of them, which was drawing nearer with each second—but so were the angered screeches behind.

The attackers seemed relentless, and Luke had already started thinking about pulling out his lightsaber to try and fend them off, when he noticed sudden motion ahead. He watched as the shuttle’s ramp lowered and several figures rushed out of the ship, all clad in white armor, blasters ready. Once signifying trouble, now it couldn’t have been a more welcome sight, and laser shots filled the air as the troopers opened fire on Luke and Anakin’s pursuers to cover their escape.

It wasn’t enough to fully stop the insectoids from advancing, but it did make them waver and slow down, allowing the pair to safely reach the ramp and get inside the ship. The troopers followed them inside as they kept shooting back to drive the creatures off the shuttle.

“Go, go, GO!” shouted one of the troopers, turning his helmeted head towards the cockpit, and the shuttle’s engines hummed as it started to lift off. There were hisses outside followed by the sounds of creatures scraping against the metal— a last-ditch effort to prevent the ship from taking off. However, all their attempts had been in vain, and a few moments later, the shuttle was already flying high above the scorched ground.

With some help from one of the troopers, Luke carefully lowered Anakin to the bunk that stretched along the ship’s wall, one arm dangling off the edge since his body was simply too broad to fit on it entirely.

“Everything alright, sir? Should I get the medkit?” the trooper asked Luke, his attention shifting between him, Anakin and Vaneé, who was standing nearby and observing the situation as well.

As Luke opened his mouth to answer, Anakin suddenly cut in, his vocoder unable to mask the rasp in his voice.

“No need.”

Even when sprawled ungracefully on the bunk, he was still authoritative enough for the trooper to simply nod in response and step away, joining the other soldiers on the opposite side of the ship.

As silence fell over the shuttle, Luke’s adrenaline finally wore off, allowing him to feel for the first time just how utterly _tired_ he was. Even though the process of Force amplification had hit his father the hardest, it’d taken away some of his strength too, not to mention the unexpected chase afterwards. He rubbed his forehead and then brought his hand closer to his face, noticing how it was now covered in shiny sweat mixed with gray ashes. After that, his gaze shifted to the massive dark form on the bunk, completely lifeless save for the slight rise and fall of the chest.

Luke sat down cross-legged on the floor next to Anakin and took his father’s gloved hand, squeezing it reassuringly. The black mask tilted in his direction ever so slightly, and for one brief moment Luke felt Anakin’s fingers tighten around his own before finally slipping into blissful unconsciousness.

In the corner of his eye he noticed Vaneé take a seat on the bunk.

“Will he be alright, Luke?” the old man asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Luke replied in an equally quiet voice. His father’s Force presence, while extremely weakened and vulnerable, was nonetheless steady and already on its way to recovery. “He’s just… exhausted himself. Nothing a few days of bed rest won't fix,” he added with a weary smile. It was refreshing, he thought, to see someone genuinely care for Anakin’s well-being apart from himself, Ahsoka and the troopers who still seemed to hold their former commander in high regard.

There was a pause before Vaneé asked another question.

“Why did Lord— _he_ —do it?”

Luke rubbed his thumb lightly against the soft black leather of the glove, still in his hand. The reason behind destroying the fortress was clear to him. For Anakin, it must have been another link to what he’d been trying so hard to renounce, another chain to break and cast aside. Although Luke wished his father had employed more traditional methods for that purpose—for example explosives, laser pummels or, at the very least, a Star Destroyer—anything less… well, _reckless_. Though it certainly wouldn’t have been as cathartic for Anakin as tearing down the loathsome structure with his own hands, helped by his son.

And as for freeing his servants...

“He… has changed. Still _is_ changing,” Luke began, weighing his words carefully. “He’s choosing to leave behind as much of his past as he can, because he wants to try and move forward. He decided to give you back the opportunity to do the same… to choose for yourselves. And I think he did it simply because it was the right thing to do.”

The old man pondered over the explanation. “I… well, I suppose I ought to be grateful for that. I think that I should be. But…” Vaneé shook his head and sighed. “Perhaps I simply don’t know what I am to do now.”

Luke turned his head to look directly at Vaneé. For a second, he appeared troubled, but then his expression brightened.

“You could visit Naboo,” he said with a grin.

He felt a wave of fragile, hopeful warmth in the Force as the corners of Vaneé’s lips curled up.

“Yes,” he murmured with quiet wonder. “I suppose I would like that.”

After making sure that Anakin was resting undisturbed under Vaneé’s watch, Luke got up from the floor and made his way to the cockpit. Leaning on the wall with his hand, he allowed himself to relax as he watched their ship leave Mustafar’s atmosphere.

Maybe it was a place of mistakes, Luke thought as the planet’s ashen sky gave way to the blackness of the cosmos. Mistakes so grave and irreparable that they had been tormenting his father ever since the moment he had made them. Mistakes that had paved the way for the ultimate destruction of the galaxy.

But today, at least, this place had finally seen one good deed.

**Author's Note:**

> One thing that has always fascinated me is that almost every fic writer seems to have different interpretations of Vader post-ROTJ, and I think most of them, if not all, are extremely valid and super enjoyable, even the darker (and thus much more realistic) ones. I personally decided to explore him as a melancholic and somewhat resigned man who is just kind of stumbling around awkwardly in the Light Side, trying to figure out what it’s like to make Actual Decent Decisions, all on top of a severe identity crisis. That is not to say he doesn’t feel the pull of the Dark anymore at all, or is totally complacent with everything that happens around him (bruh it’s Anakin we’re talking about), but my focus on him will remain mostly positive. Though there will also be plenty of drama because one does not simply cure him of Dumbass™


End file.
